Friday, January 20, 2012

William S. Burroughs and I Talk Tattooed WoodPulp...

Burroughs put the needle to his vein and paused. "You do know the next step after digital skoob is telepathic transference of the word virus, right? Instant intellectual property crackle. Spontaneous Mind Mines. Pop. Pop. Pop." He laughed, a monotone rumble fading into a snick-snick-snicker like gunfire.

Yeah, I'm back on the AlternaWorld.

Which means it's not like all of this will make sense, but enjoy the surreal ride.

[for those of you just catching up, the previous posts, "A Conversation with Salvador Dali...?!," "Jimi Hendrix says "The Dark..." is Groovy, man!," & "Charles Bukowski's Review of The Dark..." took place on an alternative world where my book has gained much infamy and acclaim. Ahem...]

"Print is the only real way a book can be appreciated to the fullest," he said. "Though I am open to digital. I just don't like the overlap of words from other books an ereader caters to. I can see them all. The word virus becomes too much to bear."

Me, I'm just a bit miffed at how anything transpires on the AlternaWorld. I mean, I ended up here in this filthy side-street alley simply by winking. Burroughs winked and here I was. He said he wanted to talk to me about my book and books in general. The kind you can flip through and smell and beat up, wear out, dog-ears flapping in your back pocket.

I needed to make some sense of this. I was also uncomfortable with the needle resting so eagerly on his already pot-holed arm.

"So, you're telling me that you love my book--"

"Oh, yeah. You got a wicked, twisted mind, Smith. You got issues. I can relate... It's like the Bible here. You're like a god here." He laughed again, a train echoing above iron tracks in the middle of the desert.

"I'm not sure if I like those implications, man. I mean, I don't want to be a god--"

"Who does? The pays not worth the mixed up adulation, though when I released Naked Lunch I was in the same boat. Up a creek, no paddle, but at least the drugs were good and plentiful."

This was all too weird, but being in the AlternaWorld on occasion, the Weird was expected.

A curious question periscoped to the surface. "What the heck is digital skoob?" He'd mentioned it in relation to my book, but it sounded more like some kind of electronic drug.

"Electronic books. They're ass-backwards, not real, but real enough because they contain the words. Books = skoob. Get it? Words are essential. But as I said, I can't read on ereaders because, at least here, the tracery memories of other stories remains. Distorting the true. And I want the truth. That's why I wish I could get back to your world. Which is a useless expenditure of brain space, because I'm dead there." He paused, his eyes went slack, dead fish zoning, then he snapped back. "My agents inform me that the kindles and nooks are okay, don't have the same problem, but I will always choose the Tattooed WoodPulp version first. At least until I can perfect the physics of telepathic transference with proper page layout." He grumbled, digging the needle into his vein and pulling back on the plunger. It filled with a deep black liquid.

So what have I so far learned during this brief trek to the AlternaWorld? Burroughs will always like books, is unhappy with ereaders in here, but at least we have it working in our world. He likes my book as well, which makes sense to me...and he's doing what with that needle?

"William, what the heck are you...?" Then I could tell exactly what he was doing as I watched the needle morph into a pen and he pressed it firmly against a blank piece of paper.

"Writing, Smith. Tattooing the WoodPulp with words, now that you've inspired me to get back to it. Been wasting too much time hanging out with Bukowski talking about writing. Time to get back to what I do best. Spreading the virus." He only smiled now, mischief and neon lights dancing in his eyes...then winked...

And I was immediately thrust back into our world. In front of a computer. Reading this blog I don't even remember writing.

Surreal...

But, as Burroughs likes the print version, perhaps you will you, too. At least it's cool to have the options, eh?

My debut collection, The Dark is Light Enough for Me, is now available in Tattoed WoodPulp, er...in Hardcopy version! Below is the link and, yeah, the other links for digital skoob versions, hehe...too!